


Stages

by brassbranch



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, he's trying to be a supportive bf but things sure are messed up in the tweak family, just a whole lot of tweek dealing with garbage and craig being there for him, no but for real tweek's parents are canonically terrible to him and i'm treating it seriously, sort of hurt/comfort?, this is gonna be dialogue and introspection heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brassbranch/pseuds/brassbranch
Summary: "Tweek Tweak had never wanted to work in his father’s coffee shop, but he didn’t get much say in the matter. He had also never wanted his name to be Tweek Tweak, for god’s sake, but he had even less say in that decision. His parents had saddled him with an unfortunate name, the responsibility of a job, and presumably a genetic predisposition to mental illness all before he could even speak."In which Tweek Bros. coffee is under investigation for drug charges, and Tweek has to process a lot of feelings. With Craig.





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> Tweek's parents are arguably some of the worst ones on the show, and it's always bothered me that when people age up the characters they tend to keep Tweek in the coffee shop, still working there or even taking the business over, even though he clearly hates it. 
> 
> Fuck that noise. Here's another option.

 

-

-

 

Tweek Tweak had never wanted to work in his father’s coffee shop, but he didn’t get much say in the matter. He had also never wanted his name to be  _ Tweek  _ Tweak, for god’s sake, but he had even less say in that decision. His parents had saddled him with an unfortunate name, the responsibility of a job, and presumably a genetic predisposition to mental illness all before he could even speak.

 

All in all, Tweek was left feeling as though he got kind of a raw deal in the family life department. Definitely not the worst, of course; his parents earned a decent living and took care of his basic needs. They kept him fed and clothed and spoiled him on his birthday. They weren’t flat out mean or violent like some other kid’s parents, and they were supportive of just about everything he did. They loved him, definitely.

 

But there was certainly some flavor of raw-deal-fuck-uppery there.

 

It was in the expectation that he would be a part of the family business even as a kid, working in the back room instead of playing outside with his friends. It was in the cycle of ignoring and feeding his paranoia in turns, casually reminding him of all the things there were to be afraid of in the world while refusing to take his own concerns seriously. It was in the fucking coffee, the lifeblood of their house and their business, introduced to his diet at the innocent age of  _ before he could even remember _ , making him caffeine dependent by the time he was in second grade.

 

_ What _ was in the fucking coffee?

 

Meth, apparently, if the lab results from the ongoing police investigation into _Tweek Bros_. coffee were accurate. Just a little, but more than enough to violate every food and drug law on the books. Enough to get the shop closed down until further notice with his dad fumbling to explain just how illegal drugs got into his coffee without any flowery similes to fall back on.

 

It made sense, in retrospect; the shady back alley pickups, the “secret ingredients,” the knowing looks from Kenny McCormick. 

 

_ The tremors, the insomnia, the paranoia- _

 

For years Tweek had been growing suspicious of the coffee his parents brewed every day, and for years they had assured him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. He’d given up freshly ground beans and homemade pour-overs in fear of being poisoned, or mind controlled, or god knows what, in favor of instant espresso powders and dollar coffees from the gas station on the way to school. His dad laughed it off as some kind of rebellious phase, and Tweek never had the heart to say, to even really consider, why he was so sure his parents’ coffee was tampered with.

But it was tampered with. Allegedly.

 

Walking from his house to Craig’s, Tweek tried to look at the positives in the situation, few as they were.

 

Like, if the shop was closed, he didn’t have to work there. He hated the back room of  _ Tweek Bros. _ almost as much as he hated the thought of working the front counter, and at almost seventeen he was getting to the age where his dad insisted he should have some experience with both. At least in the employees only space at the back of the shop he didn’t have anyone watching him or demanding things of him. He just ground beans, mostly, or washed up. If he worked the front counter he’d have to take orders and handle money and make drinks and try to look normal-

 

God that was stressful. He’d had to help his mom up front a few times on especially busy days, and the noise level alone made him want to curl up and hide under the counter. The milk steamer, especially, sounded like a screaming death machine, and he was terrified to go near it.

 

Whoever said coffee shops were a chill, calming atmosphere must have had their head up their ass.

 

Reaching Craig’s house, Tweek stopped at the mailbox and waited, knowing Craig would be out to meet him any minute. They were good enough at keeping to a schedule that he didn’t have to knock on the front door anymore, and in the event that either of them were staying home from school they would simply text each other. More often than not if Tweek was out sick-but-not-sick, Craig would skip with him. He was nice and reliable like that.

 

Craig was always at the front door at 7:05 AM, slightly sleep rumpled but ready for the walk to school. He appeared in the doorway just the same way today, backpack slung over one shoulder, plastic souvenir travel mug in hand. He adjusted the backpack strap and handed the plastic mug over to Tweek, mumbling, “Good morning, honey.”

 

He wasn’t totally awake yet. Tweek took the mug from his hand and came in close to kiss his cheek, saying, “Hey.” He took a sip of too-hot, too-bitter coffee, courtesy of Mrs. Tucker, unspeakably thankful for the fact that Craig’s mom was nice enough to share her daily pot of store brand coffee with him every weekday and some weekends. 

 

“So.” He started, unsure of how to start the conversation he kind of had to have, and hesitated until he and Craig were holding hands, starting off toward the high school, “I’m not going to be working for a while.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Craig probed, betraying the barest hint of interest. Tweek’s days off were sort of a thing for them, days specifically set aside for new video game releases or trips out of town that could maybe possibly be called dates. Craig kept him company  _ at _ work sometimes too, but it always felt a little awkward trying to talk to each other with his parents coming in and out of the room to grab supplies or comment on just how wonderful Craig was.

 

Not that Craig wasn’t wonderful. Of course Tweek thought he was wonderful. He just wasn’t sure why his parents were so obsessed with him. It was almost as if they liked Craig better? Or, wanted him for themselves? It was probably just Tweek’s anxiety talking. But still, he wished they’d back off a little.

 

Dating Craig was one of the few choices Tweek had been able to make for himself so far in life, and he was proud of that. The town’s desire to have their very own gay couple aside,  _ they _ had made the choice to date each other, and the choice to  _ keep _ dating each other after all this time. It helped Tweek feel more stable and in control, even when things got chaotic. Having Craig walk beside him, holding his hand, kept him present. He felt safe with Craig, safe enough to just say whatever was going on.

 

“My dad is in trouble with the cops.” Tweek told him, bluntly. He measured his breaths, surprised at himself for how calm he was staying. Maybe he was getting better, finally? His new medication hadn’t made him drowsy or dizzy yet, so it looked promising. “For uh- the drug stuff. Messing with the coffee. Somebody finally complained, I guess.  The shop is closed while they’re figuring everything out.”

 

“Oh,” Craig said, “Shit.”

 

“Yeah.” Tweek squeezed Craig’s hand a little tighter, “So that’s happening.”

 

Craig was watching him, waiting for a further reaction that didn’t come. Eventually he asked, “Are your parents going to get, like… arrested?”

 

Tweek could feel his right eye twitch. He wrinkled his nose to counteract the motion, balancing tics, “I don’t know. Maybe? My dad might be. Or just fined? No one ever actually goes to jail here. Or stays there for long, anyway.”

 

That was just how things worked in South Park. The whole town was fucked up, from the people to the schools to the government. Things always went wrong, or at least happened differently than you’d expect, and as much as Tweek hated it, he had gotten used to it. If nothing else it made him twice as grateful to be around Craig, who was calm and normal and uncomplicated.

 

Craig frowned, looking doubtful, but said nothing.

 

“It’s probably not going to amount to anything.” Tweek continued, shrugging, “I just wanted to let you know before any weird rumors started.”

 

“Rumors weirder than your dad being under investigation for putting meth in your coffee.”

 

Tweek flinched, opened his mouth to object and shut it just as fast.  _ Not my coffee _ , he wanted to say, but that wasn’t necessarily true. He’d had coffee at the shop before hundreds of times. There could have been anything in it. That’s why he’d  _ stopped _ drinking his parents’ coffee, because of the suspicious shit his dad got up to when he swore he was just grinding the beans.

 

He took a sip of the shitty store brand coffee Craig had brought him, holding it in his mouth so it coated his tongue, acidic and unpleasant, before swallowing. He was starting to think maybe nobody made  _ good _ coffee, that it just didn’t exist. It was more like a daily medication than a beverage for him anyway- whatever would keep his body from freaking out over a lack of caffeine.

 

“Are you going to have to testify or something?” Craig asked, the flatness in his tone tipping just slightly toward concern.

 

“Holy shit, I hope not.” Tweek groaned, “I don’t know anything about this stuff, man.”

 

“Tweek, you know more about your dad’s coffee than anybody.” Craig reasoned, “You probably have like. All the evidence the police need.”

 

“Oh god.” Tweek whispered, tensing. He hadn’t even thought about having to testify yet, “What? No. I- I seriously have no idea what goes on with my dad, dude. I don’t even want to  _ be _ in the coffee business.”

 

“Yeah, but you’ve worked there for years.”

 

“Just like, sweeping and shit!”

 

“And tasting coffee.”

 

Tweek fell silent. There was something in the way Craig was looking at him, vaguely hurt, that he didn’t understand and didn’t like and didn’t want to press. He shrugged and took another gulp of coffee, “I don’t know.” He said again, “I don’t want to think about it.”

 

Craig’s expression softened. He bumped his shoulder lightly against Tweek’s own and said, “Okay.” 

 

And they left it at that.

 

“Do you have rehearsal today?” Craig asked instead, and that at least was a question Tweek could definitively answer.

 

“Mhm, until four-thirty.” He said, “You don’t have to wait up for me if you don’t want.”

 

“Nah, I’ll stick around. I have science honor society after school anyway. I’ll just come take up space in the auditorium until you’re done.”

 

Tweek smiled at that; Craig had been sitting in on rehearsals for as long as he’d been doing school plays. All of the middle and high school drama teachers had given up on kicking him out a long time ago, and by now they just sort of accepted that having Tweek on stage meant Craig would be hanging out nearby, doing his homework or playing games on his phone. He never caused a disturbance, and as long as Tweek didn’t get distracted, having an extra body in the auditorium wasn’t a problem.

 

Plus it never hurt for Tweek to catch Craig watching him while he rehearsed, looking vaguely awed. He liked having Craig’s attention on him, liked showing off a little.

 

They walked quietly hand in hand the rest of the way to school, conversation abandoned in favor of listening to the crunch of last night’s snow underfoot. When they got to the school’s front doors they parted ways with a quick kiss, so much a part of their daily routine that it didn’t raise any eyebrows from the other students lingering around the lobby. By the time the bell rang to signal the start of first period, Tweek’s coffee was finished and his mind was preoccupied with math and music theory.

  
By second period, news that  _ Tweek Bros.  _ was suddenly and suspiciously closed for business had gotten around.

 

-

-

 


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are some serious allegations.

 

-

-

 

Lying flat on his back on the floor of Craig’s bedroom, Tweek stared up at the pale plastic stars mounted on the ceiling and tried to take deep breaths. Deep, calming breaths.

 

“I’m so mad I’m shaking.” He announced.

 

“I can see that.” Craig said from his spot on the floor at Tweek’s side, “You wanna try and cool off? You can stick your head in the freezer if you want, my mom won’t care.”

 

“Ngh.” Tweek groaned, “That only ever works for like, a minute.”

 

Craig sighed, “I don’t think you’re giving it a chance, babe. Science says it works.”

 

“Well it doesn’t work for me.” Tweek insisted, “My body temperature is all messed up.”

 

“That’s because you’re so hot.” Craig said in a deadpan. Usually a comment like that would get a laugh out of Tweek, but right now he was too wound up to find the humour in much of anything.

 

“Everybody knows what’s going on with my dad’s shop.” Tweek complained, “Now the whole town thinks I’m a meth addict, and I can’t even fight anybody for saying so or it’ll make me look worse!”

 

“You probably shouldn’t fight anybody anyway.” Craig said, “It’d suck if you got in trouble and were kicked out of the play.”

 

Tweek huffed in frustration and turned his head to look at Craig. He was right, of course. Craig always thought a step ahead, and not in the paranoid way Tweek did. His thinking was actually helpful.

 

“I’m not gonna fight anyone.” He promised.

 

“Good.” Craig said, “Neither will I. Except for your dad. I kinda wanna punch him, babe.”

 

The feeling was mutual, but it didn’t feel right to say. Even if it was his dad’s fault that they were all in this mess, that he was… the way he was.

 

“He has enough going on already.” Tweek said quietly, looking past Craig to the underside of his bed. It was mostly empty there, clean in a way his own bedroom would never be. There were a few shoe boxes though, one with actual seldom worn dress shoes in it, and one that was full of all the valentines and birthday cards that Tweek had given him over the years. The most recent card, from just last month, was probably at the top of the stack, embarrassingly sentimental contents folded up and out of sight. 

 

“So has he actually been charged with anything?”

 

Tweek twitched, left shoulder jumping, and pressed his spine down to the floor, trying to stay still, “Jeez- god, I don’t know. My parents won’t tell me anything! And the police haven’t tried to talk to me… yet. But someone from child protective services  _ does _ want to talk to me for some reason.”

 

“Because your parents knowingly exposed you to drugs, you mean.” Craig said.

 

“Ngh. Yeah. That.”

 

Craig put his hand over Tweek’s, a gentle touch that didn’t make him jump.

 

“They’re coming to school though.” Tweek continued, “To talk to me at the counselor’s office, like  _ that’s _ more convenient. Because it’s neutral ground maybe, but that’s kind of messed up, like, everyone is going to see me going into the office to get interrogated and think  _ I’m _ getting arrested or something.”

 

“No one’s going to think you’re getting arrested, Tweek.” Craig assured him, “And they’re not going to interrogate you, they’re trying to help.”

 

“Help? By messing up my life?” He gripped Craig’s hand, maybe a little too tight, “Trying to take me away from my parents? I can’t deal with that!”

 

He’d been saying he wanted out of his family for years, but not like this, and certainly not now. He was almost done with high school, almost free anyway. He wanted to get through the next year or so and then leave with Craig for whatever college would accept them.

 

He  _ absolutely _ didn’t want to have to move, or go to a different school, or be away from Craig.

 

“I mean, best case scenario I’m just allowed to like...move out? Maybe we can get a rent-free apartment for being the town’s favorite gay couple. People like just giving us stuff, right?”

 

“I don’t really think we’re ready to take care of an apartment.” Craig said flatly, “I’m only seventeen. You’re not  _ even _ seventeen.”

 

“I will be in a week, jesus.”

 

“Tweek, calm down.” Craig said, sitting up. He pulled his hat off only to rearrange his hair and pull it back on again, flattening it till just the tips of his bangs poked lopsidedly out from under the fabric, “You shouldn’t get all worked up over hypotheticals. All you have to do is tell everybody the truth and you’ll be fine.”

 

Tweek sat up too fast and felt dizzy. He took his hand back from Craig and braced himself against the floor, “What do you mean I’ll be  _ fine _ ? If I tell the truth I’m gonna get my dad arrested and child services is gonna shuffle me to some weird relative- or a stranger! It’s just like my parents always said,  _ stay with us or someone’s gonna get you, Tweek. _ ” He mimicked his mom’s gentle tone, “ _ Don’t let anybody in or they’ll ruin your life, Tweek. _ ” 

 

“Dude.”

 

“Don’t  _ dude _ me.”

 

“Lie and tell them everything is fine then.” Craig said, frustrated, “Child services isn’t going to intervene unless you’ve been abused.”

 

“But I  _ have  _ been abused!” Tweek said, probably too loudly. He didn’t want Craig’s family to overhear, but it was hard to control the volume of his voice when he got emotional, “My parents fed me drugs and terrorized me! They made me think I was gonna die! My dad said he was gonna sell me into  _ slavery _ if the shop failed, Craig! When I was  _ nine _ !”

 

Craig was silent, hands balled to fists on the tops of his thighs, holding still like he wasn’t sure what to do with his body, like he was uncomfortable. Fuck, Tweek was making him uncomfortable. He was probably thinking about some awful shit like how much nine year old boys sold for, or how much Tweek would sell for now at sixteen, or what kind of sicko even  _ buys _ children, or whether or not his dad already had ties to any human trafficking rings- the kind of things Tweek had worried about for years.

 

“I mean.” Tweak swallowed thickly, “I know all of that isn’t normal.”

 

“No, it’s not.” Craig said softly, “It’s abusive. And it sucks.”

 

“Yeah.” Tweek agreed, his voice not quite cooperating. He sounded choked to his own ear, “But I don’t think they meant it in a bad way. I think they’re just… bad at being parents.” He squirmed at the admission, gentle as it was. He could say worse things, and part of him wanted to, but he didn’t have the heart any more. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“You can report it.” Craig stared at him blankly and Tweek stared right back, “Or not.”

 

They sat tensely, both slightly furious, not with each other, but without a proper outlet to channel the emotion it was hard to know who to be angry with. Finally, Craig said, “Sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick.” Which, of course not, he never did, “I’m just stating the facts.”

 

“I know.” Tweek sighed.

 

“And I’m sorry your parents are douche canoes.” He added, putting an arm around Tweek’s shoulders.

 

“God, they really are.” Tweek muttered. He ran a hand back through his hair, pulling at it lightly, “Shit, Craig, what if this gets on the news? It could go national! Even if I move out of town people are gonna recognize my name.  _ Tweak _ ? Like the  _ meth coffee place _ ? Jesus Christ, it’s gonna follow me forever! I’ll have to change my name!”

 

“I doubt it’ll make national news.” Craig said reasonably, “But if you have to change your name, you can use mine. I kind of figured you’d take it when we get married anyway.”

 

Tweek stopped panicking, one hand still in his hair, to stare at Craig in surprise. For as long as they had been dating, neither of them had ever broached the subject of marriage. It wasn’t the kind of thing teenagers concerned themselves with. Marriage was for parents, for distant cousins sending engagement announcements in the mail. It didn’t even feel like a real thing the two of them could do.

 

But then, when Tweek thought about his future, he always imagined Craig would be there with him. If not married then at least still together, sharing a living space, a bed, a life. He wanted to be with Craig, always. And that sort of was the point of getting married, wasn’t it? To stay with your best friend, to work as a team, to support each other. If Tweek could have that with Craig, then all of the other variables of life seemed a little less overwhelming.

 

“If.” Craig corrected, a blush creeping into his cheeks, “If we did. If you wanted.”

 

The pressure in Tweek’s chest let up then. For the first time in days he felt like he could take a full breath, so he did, letting the air fill his chest, his belly, bringing all his senses to attention. Or maybe that was just the effect of being around Craig.

 

Tweek Tucker wasn’t a bad name. In fact, it sounded pretty good. It was better than what he’d had to work with so far, at least. For a split-second he had the insatiable urge to run home and practice writing it out in full,  _ Tweek Tucker _ , line after line in one of his underutilized marble school notebooks.

 

But he couldn’t remember where he’d left his old notebooks, and home was exactly the place he was avoiding right now, and Craig was right here in front of him looking increasingly nervous. Because he was waiting for a response to what was potentially a proposal of marriage- shit.

 

“I… I’d still have the same initials.” Tweek said, cracking a smile, “That would be cool. Being married to you would be really cool, Craig.” 

 

Craig smiled, looking so obviously relieved that Tweek had to lean in and kiss him. 

 

At least for the moment, the looming threat of having to talk to someone other than Craig about just how badly his parents had messed him up was out of mind.

 

-

-

 


	3. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consider your options.

 

-

 

-

 

“So.” Craig prompted as he took Tweek’s hand to begin the walk home from another day of school, “How’d the talk with CPS go?”

 

The last few periods of the day had kept them apart, and though they both always had their phones on hand, texting in certain classes was an impossibility. Besides, there were some things Tweek would rather not have to type out for fear of having his own discomfort forever preserved in an ongoing text log with his boyfriend.

 

For example;

“I fucking choked.”

 

Craig blinked at him, waiting for an explanation that didn’t come, “I don’t really know what that means, honey.”

 

“I panicked and rambled about my parents being supportive for an hour so nobody thinks the worst.” Tweek sighs, “I talked about dating you and how much they like you, and how they come to all my shows, and pay for my prescriptions-”

 

“You decided to lie and pretend everything is alright, then?”

 

“I didn’t  _ lie _ .” Tweek insisted, gripping Craig’s hand tighter, “I just didn’t bring up anything shitty.”

 

“I’m surprised you got an hour out of that.” Craig said with a touch of sarcasm.

 

“I could talk about how much my parents like you for at  _ least _ an hour.” Tweek shot back, frowning, “They like you more than they like me.”

 

Craig stopped walking suddenly, almost tripping Tweek as he turned to face him, “Did you actually tell them that?”

 

“What? No! I just said that my parents are crazy about you. And that I am. Not crazy, just- you know what I mean. I blabbed on about how much I love you so maybe they’ll take pity on me and let me stay in South Park.”

 

“Would you stay  _ with _ your parents though?” Craig pressed.

 

Tweek shrugged uncomfortably, “I don’t know, man. I guess? Either way I’m not drinking any more drugged coffee, so I’ll be fine.”

 

“If that’s your metric for how fine you’ll be, I think your priorities are kind of screwed.”

 

Tweek tugged his hand free of Craig’s, a quick flash of betrayal crossing his face, “Don’t talk to me like I don’t know how to take care of myself. You know I hate that!”

 

Craig tipped his head back, stifling an aggravated groan, “I  _ know _ you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.” He reached out to Tweek again, offering his hand hopefully, “I’m not trying to start a fight.”

 

Tweek hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking Craig’s hand, holding on as he breathed his frustration away. It had been years, but all of the tricks they’d learned to effectively communicate as kids still came in handy, “I don’t want to fight either. I’m just really freaked out and everything is out of control- or, it’s  _ in _ my control, and that’s what’s so terrifying. I don’t want to be responsible for putting my parents in  _ jail _ .”

 

“Your dad kind of made his own bed on that one.” Craig pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but now he could be charged with  _ child abuse _ too, and that’s on me!”

 

“No, that’s definitely on him too.” Craig said flatly.

 

“But  _ I’m _ gonna feel guilty!”

 

And Craig didn’t have a quick response to that. He heaved a sigh and looked up at the sky for a minute as he gathered his thoughts. When he met Tweek’s eyes again it was with an earnest expression, all traces of annoyance gone. He took Tweek’s other hand in his own, so that they were holding onto each other like some kind of impromptu sidewalk prayer circle, and said, “Tweek, I’m way out of my depth here. I want to help, but this isn’t something two kids can handle. I think maybe you should talk to someone- not someone who scares you, like… a trusted adult or something.”

 

Tweek winced, knowing it was a good point. Sure, Craig might be more logical than Tweek, but he was still just a logical teenager. He didn’t have the life experience or coping skills to manage the complete clusterfuck of a situation Tweek had found himself in. And to be honest, Tweek didn’t expect him to; he just needed to vent, and Craig was wonderful at listening. But talking about a problem only got you so far. He needed  _ solutions _ .

 

“I know, I know- But I  _ don’t _ trust any adults!”

 

“What about an adult that  _ I _ trust?” Craig offered, “You could try talking to my parents; they’re actually pretty okay at giving advice. I can even talk to them with you if you want.” 

 

Tweek gripped Craig’s hands tighter, imagining having to explain everything to his parents. Mrs. Tucker was nice enough, and seemed pretty practical, like Craig. Mr. Tucker had been friendly to him ever since he and Craig started  _ actually _ dating, always checking in with him when he came over, making sure he was doing okay. He’d talked to them before about normal everyday stuff; coffee, the weather, the school play, what Craig wanted for his birthday- so maybe he could talk to them about something more serious.

 

And if Craig was there with him to hold his hand and help him get the words out, maybe it wouldn’t even be that hard.

 

“Yeah.” He said, looking at Craig gratefully, “Yeah, I could try that. As long as your parents won’t mind.”

 

“ ‘Course not.” Craig said simply, “I’ll just tell them you’re staying for dinner and we can figure things out from there.”

  
  
  


Which is how Tweek found himself sitting in the Tucker’s living room, knees shaking with nervous energy, while Craig threw plastic containers of leftovers into the fridge and quietly asked his parents if he and Tweek could talk to them about something.

 

Once Tricia was ushered off to her bedroom to finish her homework, Craig came to join Tweek on the couch. He sat close enough that their thighs touched, the stillness of his body a stark contrast to Tweek’s jerky movements. Laura Tucker took a seat in an armchair while her husband Thomas stood beside her, tall enough that he could lean over and drape his arm across the back of the chair, encircling her shoulders.

 

Tweek wondered distantly if Craig would be as tall as his dad when he finished growing. He was already kind of tall, but he could probably gain a few inches in the next year or so, maybe by the time he was in college. Tweek wanted to be around to see that, and the fear that he might not be gripped him again full force, showing through in a series of small tics.

 

“Alright boys,” Thomas Tucker said, “What is it you wanted to talk to us about?”

 

Tweek took in a shaky breath. He felt Craig grip his hand and looked toward him in silent thanks for his support, only to find him looking nervous.

 

Nervous for...him? Or for the both of them, maybe. Craig didn’t want Tweek to have to move away any more than Tweek himself did. He was already upset about things, wanting to punch Tweek’s dad by his own admission, but now that Tweek had fumbled his way through an interview with someone who was legally required to do what was best for him, the stakes felt higher.

 

Knowing that Craig was worried made it easier for Tweek to pull himself together. He might have been an anxious, twitchy mess, but he could overcome all that for Craig. 

 

He grasped Craig’s hand tightly, a promise that he wasn’t going anywhere without a fight, and took a second, more even, breath.

 

“There’s been a lot going on.” He said, “First off, no one is pregnant or dead, so, don’t worry about that.”

 

Beside him Craig snickered, nerves easing, and interlocked his fingers with Tweek’s in less of a stranglehold, his thumb rubbing comforting circles against the back of his hand.

 

“I guess I should just tell you everything.” Tweek sighed, and Laura nodded encouragingly, so he did.

 

Or, almost everything.

 

He told them about his dad’s shady business practices and his stories that went nowhere, about his mom’s willful ignorance and constant pushing of caffeine. He told them about the drug charges, and the interview with CPS, and how he really didn’t want to have to be shipped off to live with relatives he didn’t know or change schools or be away from Craig. He told them that he loved his parents, but that they were kind of messed up.

 

He didn’t tell them about about the vague threats that the business could fail if Tweek screwed up, or the years spent desperately trying to prove that there was something wrong with him that coffee wouldn’t fix, or about his dad holding a gun to his head that one time to prove a point, which he sometimes thought he imagined, but no, it was real.

 

He thought about all that though, and somewhere along the way he teared up, which was extra uncomfortable since Craig didn’t handle crying well. He stayed close to his side though, braving it out until Tweek was done talking.

 

“And now Tweek’s in a tough spot.” Craig said, as if he were delivering the closing statement in the most awkward presentation ever, “And we don’t know what to do.”

 

Laura and Thomas exchanged a look- several looks, actually, ranging from sympathetic to furious. None of the expressions were ones Tweek was particularly comfortable being on the receiving end of- knowing Craig’s parents were judging his family, pitying him, made him want to vanish into the floor. He watched them look to each other in a silent agreement, then sat up straighter, attentive as Laura spoke.

 

“Tweek sweetie, no one in their right mind is going to take you out of South Park when you’re this far along in school.” She said reasonably, “From what Craig tells us you’re very involved in the theater department- there’s a play coming up soon, right? They wouldn’t disrupt your life like that.”

 

“Besides, you and Craig have been together for so long,” Thomas added, “Your support system is here. I’m sure they understand that.”

 

“But what if he can’t stay with his parents?” Craig asked tensely, “He’s not gonna be allowed to live on his own.”

 

Thomas and Laura exchanged another look. Laura said, “I’m sure we could work something out,” and Thomas nodded.

 

Tweek wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but the positive outlook the Tuckers were taking made him feel a little better, like there was a chance his life wasn’t completely over.

 

If Craig’s parents were willing, maybe they could help him and Tweek visit each other if he had to move away. Maybe Tweek could even sleep over every weekend, if it wasn’t too much trouble. Heck, they might even let him stay for the summer if he asked really, really nicely.

 

“We’ve talked about finishing that guest room upstairs anyway.” Thomas said.

 

“We really do need to clean out all the junk in there.” Laura agreed, “It’s on the small side, but it could work as a bedroom.”

 

Tweek’s heart jumped to his throat. They couldn’t possibly be suggesting-

 

“And of course you’re welcome to it if you’d like, Tweek.”

 

_ Holy shit they really were suggesting- _

 

“You’d let me stay here?” Tweek asked, incredulous. He’d never even considered that as an option- why would Craig’s parents just  _ volunteer _ to have him live at their house? Would that even be allowed? Even as the thought of living with Craig and his nice, normal, boring family filled him with hope, Tweek couldn’t shake the fear that the arrangement would never be approved.

 

“If that would make things easier for you, son.” Thomas said.

 

Tweek looked to Craig beside him in disbelief, but Craig seemed unsurprised, his expression neutral as ever, as if this were the natural progression of things.

 

“Holy shit.” Tweek said softly, only to clamp his free hand over his mouth a second later, embarrassed at having cursed in front of Craig’s parents. They might all flip each other off over the dinner table on the regular, but they were still his  _ boyfriend’s parents _ . And they were offering to let him live in their house, just across the hallway from Craig’s own bedroom.

 

What if that would be too much closeness? What if they got tired of each other? What if- No. Wait. He was getting ahead of himself, as usual. Better not to think too hard about this and ruin it.

 

“That’s really nice of you.” Tweek said after a moment, struggling to find the right words, “Thank you.”

 

The Tuckers didn’t ask him to make a decision on the spot, and Tweek certainly wasn’t ready to.

He slept over that night though, drifting off earlier than he’d managed to fall asleep in days, with Craig’s arm thrown over his midsection and a series of unanswered texts from his mom waiting on his phone.

 

-

 

-


	4. Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know Tweek's mom doesn't have a name? They never gave her one, so far as I can tell.

 

 

-

-

 

For the first time in a long time, Tweek was skipping rehearsal. And not necessarily because he wanted to, although his ability to focus on lines and stage direction  _ was _ pretty shot right now. It was more to do with the fact that no one would expect him to show up that particular afternoon, and if he did he’d look like a complete dick.

 

Who would just go to a play rehearsal after school when their dad had been arrested and their family was almost  _ definitely _ going to go bankrupt after all the fines and legal fees added up, especially considering the recent closure of their business?

 

Tweek would, if he could. He would be that dick. He’d gladly lose himself in a role rather than deal with the mess that was his family life. But it’d be twice as stressful to go to rehearsal and have to face people who were probably already gossiping about his dad, who were probably pitying him.

 

He kind of just wanted to go home and lock himself in his room for approximately the rest of his life. But going home meant he might have to face his mom and he just wasn’t sure he can do that yet.

 

So he waited around awkwardly at the front of the school until Craig came meet him and took his hand, casual, like nothing was wrong, so they could walk back to the Tucker’s house together.

 

The thought of going back home with Craig, being invited to stay, should have made him feel better, but at the moment all his feelings were conflicted. The simple fact that the Tuckers cared more, cared  _ better _ , for his wellbeing than his own parents was bittersweet at best.

 

Besides, Tweek figured there was no way he’d  _ actually _ be allowed to stay with Craig’s family, and even if he could, it’d probably be a bad idea. His own parents might resent him for it- his mother might be heartbroken. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, even if he wasn’t totally thrilled with her  _ or _ his dad right now.

 

“You’re surprisingly quiet.” Was the first thing Craig said to him on the walk home. They were waiting at a crosswalk and Tweek was lost in thought, spacing out instead of spiralling down into the pit of fear his mind usually provided. He wasn’t anxious right now, incredibly, just sort of… blank.

 

Which apparently Craig had noticed.

 

“I don’t really have anything I want to talk about.” Tweek explained with a shrug.

 

“If you don’t want to talk, I’m not going to make you.” 

 

From anyone else that might sound dismissive or passive aggressive, but from Craig it was an offer of support. He wasn’t going to push Tweek into anything, but he’d be there if and when he needed him.

 

“Thanks.” Tweek mumbled, touching his shoulder to Craig’s appreciatively, “I might want to talk later. I don’t know. I’m kind of-” He twitched and furrowed his brow, trying to shake off the feeling of the involuntary movement. “Ngh. Processing.”

 

Craig nodded in understanding, “Makes sense. Take your time, babe.”

 

They walked to the nearest gas station to get Tweek a coffee, then, and Craig kept any comments about how downing sixteen ounces of caffeine wasn’t going to do anything to ease his anxiety or lift his mood. Tweek may have cut back on his coffee intake over the last few years, but there was no way he could break the habit entirely, especially when he was feeling so shitty.

 

Sitting on the stoop outside the gas station, Tweek nursed his coffee in one hand and kept his fingers linked with Craig’s with the other. The physical contact was grounding, calming, and he knew from experience that Craig liked to be touching more often than not. It helped them both feel better on what was, so far, an especially shitty day. Even as they caught a chill from the cold cement beneath them, it felt like a safe, still little spot.

 

Until the stillness was interrupted.

 

Tweek’s phone buzzed in his hand, the ringer silenced. He held his phone out for Craig to see, as if waiting for confirmation of what he was reading on the caller ID. Judging by the way Craig’s eyebrows rose in surprise, Tweek wasn’t imagining things; his mom was calling.

 

His mom was  _ calling _ ? Holy shit, his mom was calling.

 

Tweek held the phone gingerly, afraid to touch any responsive part of it, “What the hell? She never calls me, she just texts!”

 

Craig put a hand on his arm, gently saying, “You should answer it.”

 

And there was the anxiety again, seizing him from the inside. It filled his body like a quick-acting poison, chilling his blood, making him shake. Anything his mom had to  _ call _ him to say couldn’t be good, and he already knew his dad was going to jail, so what could possibly be more pressing? Was someone dead? 

 

Feeling slightly nauseous, Tweek swiped his thumb across the phone screen, answering the call on the last ring.

“H-hi mom.”

 

“Tweek,” She said, a relieved sort of sigh, and her voice was just as soft and sweet as it had always been. If the events of the day had upset her at all she wasn’t showing it, “Sweetie, are you alright? Are you with Craig?”

 

“Um.” Alright? Generally speaking, probably not, “Yeah, I’m with Craig. We’re going back to his house. Is that… okay?”

 

Tweek held his breath as he waited for a response, hoping that he was off the hook, that he wouldn’t have to come home just yet, or worse, go to the police station, or a lawyer’s office, of the coffee shop.

 

“Good.” His mother said, “I’m glad to hear it.”

 

Silence then. His mother seemed to be hesitating to speak, and  _ Tweek _ certainly didn’t know what the hell to say. Sitting on the stoop beside him, Craig watched intently.

 

“Your birthday is in a few days.” His mother said finally, tone searching, as if she were coyly asking what to get him as a gift.

 

“Is that seriously what you want to talk about right now?” Tweek asked, unable to keep the astonished anger out of his voice. Of all the things that were happening, of all the nightmare scenarios he had already thought up, she was just reminding him about his birthday? He could feel his face going hot, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. Everything about this situation was...frustrating? Embarrassing? Hurtful? All of the above. There were too many feelings all at once, and when they competed against each other all Tweek could really feel was a buzzing sort of discomfort.

 

“I didn’t want you to think I forgot.” His mom said quietly, “In the middle of...all this.”

 

The discomfort eased. Watching Craig watch him, Tweek got the impression that his expression must have changed concerningly fast. He still felt too hot, too tense, but the pressure behind his eyes eased up, and he was able to huff out a laugh.

 

“That’s kind of the least of my concerns right now.” He told her with flat honesty, just the way Craig would.

 

“Right.” She said haltingly, “Of course.”

 

“Are...you okay?”

 

Tweek could hear the forced smile in her voice when she answered, “I’m managing. Don’t worry about me.”

 

And god, she probably didn’t mean to make him feel guilty, but he did. He closed his eyes and breathed in, out, trying to stay calm.

 

“So I spoke with Laura last night.” His mother said, and Tweek sat up straighter at the name.

 

Who? Oh- Laura Tucker, Craig’s mom. Right. It was still weird to think of adults on a first name basis, “...yeah?”

 

“She and Thomas offering you their spare room is a  _ very _ kind gesture.” She continued, and Tweek’s heart dropped at the ‘ _ but’ _ that had to be coming. But he needed to come home soon, probably. But he couldn’t just run away to his boyfriend’s house, probably. But she could take care of things just fine, maybe.

 

“Oh. Y-yeah. They’re really-”

 

“I think you should take them up on it, sweetie.” His mother said, words rushing together a bit, “At least until things are sorted out. You deserve a stable environment and I can’t provide that for you here, not when everything is….” She trailed off, sighed, “I’m sorry about all this trouble, Tweek. It isn’t at all what your father and I wanted for you.”

 

Tweek swallowed hard, speechless. Was he imagining things or did his mom just  _ apologize _ to him? A part of him reeled at the idea, while another smaller part simmered, still angry; an apology now was a joke. Where was the apology when they him got hooked on drugged coffee? When they made him think he could be sold off at any moment? When they were turning his younger years into a mess of child labor and anxiety and trauma?

 

But all Tweek managed to say was, “It’s okay, mom.”

 

It wasn’t. Even Craig, only hearing one half of the conversation could tell that much. He held Tweek’s free hand, thumb tracing soothingly over his skin, though Tweek couldn’t tell which one of them he was trying to comfort.

 

“I just wanted you to know that you should do whatever is going to make you happiest.” His mother continued, still soft, still sweet, just a little aching, “Craig is  _ so _ good for you, pumpkin, and if staying with him will make you feel safe then- then that’s what you should do.”

 

“Mom,” Tweek breathed, “Are… you going to jail too?”

 

Craig’s eyebrows rose a fraction higher, a look that was split down the center between honest concern and curiosity at the level of drama going on.

 

“Goodness, no!” Tweek’s mother said with an airy laugh, “They can’t pin anything on me. But things are going to change for us, as a family, and I don’t want you dragged into any more of your father’s mess than you already are.”

 

So she was...sending him away? No- just letting him go, setting him free. If he wanted to leave.

 

“I love you very much, Tweek,” She went on, so sincere that it made his heart hurt, “And I’ll always be here for you. But I also understand if you want to take some time away from me. From us.”

 

Tweek struggled to find words, “I- yeah. Yeah, I’ll… think about it. Um, thanks mom. I love you too.”

 

“I have to go now, pumpkin,” His mother said sadly, “A nice man from the F.B.I wants to speak with me, and I might be away from home for a bit. But I’ll text you tonight, and of course you can call me any time. Bye bye, sweetie.”

 

Tweek listened as she kissed the air beside the phone, the sound so close it could have been against his skin, “O-okay. Bye mom.”

 

And she hung up.

 

Craig stared him down, eyes trained on Tweek’s own, waiting for information, “What the hell did she want?” He asked, just accusatory enough that it made Tweek smile. He didn’t  _ actually _ want Craig to fight his parents or anything, but his obvious willingness to throw down for Tweek’s sake made his chest tight with affection. It probably wasn’t normal to get butterflies over a boy who would beat up your parents for you, but then, nothing much was normal in their lives.

 

“She was just checking up on me.” Tweek told him, and stood up from the curb, urging Craig to rise with him. He felt lighter somehow, like a stone had been removed from the pit of his stomach, the overwhelming sense of dread that had been hanging on him all day fading away, “Making sure you’re taking care of me.”

 

He was joking, though Craig’s answering huff sounded serious, “If I can take care of a guinea pig I can take care of a boyfriend.”

 

“You can  _ barely _ take care of a guinea pig.” Tweek teased, swinging his arm a little so Craig’s rocked back and forth too, “But… you  _ do _ take really good care of me. Thanks, Craig.”

 

Craig smiled at that, genuine and a little awkward, and Tweek loved him just a tiny bit more than usual.

 

-

-

 


	5. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now a short, fluffy epilogue
> 
> i have this story saved on my computer as 'free tweek 2017' so i'm glad i finished it before the new year

 

-

-

 

“What if I get on your sister’s nerves?”

 

“Tricia likes you more than she likes  _ me _ , babe.”

 

“But what if I get in the way of everybody’s morning routine?”

 

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out, honey.”

 

“But what if I mess up doing my laundry and break your washing machine?”

 

“I’ll just do your laundry for you then.”

 

“No way!” Tweek protested, dropping a box full of his remaining legos on top of a bigger box of holiday decorations that the Tuckers hadn’t found a new home for yet. Christmas was in a month or so anyway, so Tweek wasn’t worried about it being in the way. Frankly he would have been willing to stay in the guest room even if it had  _ stayed _ full of the Tuckers old junk, “You don’t have to do my laundry.”

 

Craig idly fluffed Tweek’s pillow, making it look full and inviting at the head of the guest bed, “But I like doing laundry.”

 

Tweek hummed in consideration, eventually relenting, “Well. Maybe we could do our laundry together. I don’t have a lot of clothes anyway.”

 

“Doing our laundry together would be  _ really _ gay.” Craig pointed out.

 

Which, yeah, honestly, Tweek couldn’t argue with. Then again, just knowing that his clothes and sheets and everything were going to smell like Craig’s detergent all the time now was enough to make his heart beat double time, and  _ that _ was pretty damn gay too.

 

More than just super gay- it was just going to be  _ nice _ to live with that comforting scent, to spend peaceful afternoons doing homework together, to have Craig just down the hall whenever he wanted to see him.

 

Maybe it would be a little weird, or a little too much closeness, but Tweek would much rather have too much time with Craig than none at all. He’d rather be here than anywhere else, especially home, and he’d made peace with that.

 

His parents had too, and that was a huge weight off his shoulders. Hearing his mother give him her blessing on his new living arrangements eased his guilt tremendously, and the texts she sent reminding him to be polite to the Tuckers and responsible with his sexual choices only caused the usual brand of parental-embarrassment.

 

The other texts she sent (about the charges against his dad, and the recent prison rebellions, and a new law about beverage sizes imposed by aliens that might eventually get the whole  _ Tweak Bros. Coffee _ case overturned anyway,) seemed par for the course for South Park. Tweek read the updates she sent, but otherwise didn’t worry about it.

 

Those things weren’t his concern anymore. All he had to worry about now was being a good guest in the Tucker’s home and keeping up with school. Normal kid stuff. The occasional fear of apocalypse that still gripped him at inopportune times, of course, but that wasn’t  _ so _ uncommon, and besides, Craig made handling those fears easier.

 

“Hey.” Tweek said, turning away from the few things he had left to unpack to focus fully on Craig, “I’m really happy to be here.”

 

“I’m happy you’re here too.” Craig agreed, sounding relieved. Having Tweek nearby, out of his own family’s mess, meant he’d be worrying less too, even if he wasn’t quite as obvious in his anxiety, “We all are.”

 

He meant the rest of his family, and the sentiment made Tweek lightheaded with affection. He loved this boy and his family and their guinea pig who they wouldn’t have to move from house to house any more- he loved them all so much, and if he were a more physically affectionate person he would want to gather them all up in a great big hug.

 

But he didn’t feel comfortable hugging Craig’s parents, let alone Tricia, and Stripe couldn’t be held too tightly, being a small animal.

 

Craig, on the other hand, was perfect for hugging. 

Tweek climbed up over the guest bed- now his bed- and took hold of Craig’s shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. He nestled in against his neck, hugging him tightly, before letting go, hands still lingering on his upper arms.

 

And since they were alone, the rest of the Tuckers downstairs getting dinner ready, and the moment felt right, and Tweek wasn’t sure when he’d have a non-awkward time to do it again, he kissed Craig. Craig kissed him back, as natural as breathing.

 

It felt good to have this- their first time kissing in a house they were both living in. Not their first kiss ever by a longshot, and definitely not the last, but one of the ones in the middle that Tweek hoped he would always remember.

 

And maybe someday they would move to a new place together and create another first kiss, or maybe they’d move fifteen times until they found a that worked for them, or maybe living together wouldn’t work out, or- any number of possibilities.

 

But for now it was their first time sharing a kiss in Tweek’s new room in Craig’s house, and that was enough.

 

“Just in case we have to cut back on the PDA now,” Tweek explained when they parted, “Since your family will always be around.”

 

Craig snorted a laugh, “My parents won’t care if we kiss. They don’t even make me leave my door open when you’re here.”

 

“But they might make me leave  _ mine _ open!”

 

“Doubt it.” Craig said flatly, looking to the currently open door. Beyond it, Tricia’s voice carried up the stairs and down the hall.

 

“This food is ready!” She shouted, the most formal declaration of dinner they were going to get. While the Tuckers tended to eat together as a family, they didn’t necessarily wait around for each other to start a meal. If Craig and Tweek dragged their feet, there was every possibility they’d end up sharing the leftovers by themselves while everyone else watched tv.

 

Which wasn’t the worst idea, but… At least this time, Tweek wanted to have a nice family dinner.

 

So he kissed Craig quickly, one more time, and took his hand, “Come on,” He urged, “I can finish up here after dinner.”

 

“And I’ll help you run lines later if you want.” Craig offered as Tweek guided him out of his new room, down the stairs.

 

Tweek grinned at the thought of Craig reading off lines from the school play, poorly as ever, sitting on the bed while Tweek hung up his shirts and breathed evenly and memorized his own part; of course he wanted that. He wanted that silly little thing more than he’d probably wanted anything in his life. He squeezed Craig’s hand fondly, sighing, “That’d be great.”

 

And they headed down to dinner together, hand in hand.

 

-

-


End file.
